No Leaf Clover
by Koneko Cain
Summary: Slash, Xmen Lobo crossover. Blind and dying, Lobo's last clone is taken in by the Xavier institute. Can they cure him before the real Lobo kills him? LoganRemy, amongst others.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of these characters, please don't sue me. I'm a student!

**Notes:** I wasn't happy with the way things left off at the end of the Young Justice series for poor little Slo-bo, so I decided he needed a fic written for him. It's not just for him though, since I also have a strange obsession with Remy (Gambit) and the other X-men, but large parts of the story do involve Slo-bo. Also… possibly a few of the weirdest pairings ever, and this is my first fic for any of these characters so if any details are wrong forgive me.

No Leaf Clover is a song by Metallica.

**Warnings:** Angst, spoilers for the end of the Young Justice comic series and parts of the X-men comics involving Gambit, Slash, Crossover between Young Justice (only Slo-bo), X-Men and Lobo.

**No Leaf Clover**

_Young Justice One Million: The Garden of Statues_.

His cells had been degenerating, but they weren't anymore. He'd had time to suffer through going blind and the humiliation of having to admit that he was dying to the rest of the Young Justice team, but before he could actually go ahead and have his body crumble to nothing like the defective clone he was, Darkseid had turned up again. An entire army of teenage Lobo clones hadn't been able to stop him the first time around, but it was a chance to die in battle so he'd leapt at it. Better than waiting for his hearing to go, then his sense of touch, then his strength, then… Then what? He wasn't sure how it would have happened, had his cells continued to break down. Maybe it would have been long, drawn-out and painful, or maybe he'd just have woken up dead one day. It didn't matter anyway. That was what he got for being from the shallow end of the gene pool.

Lobo created a clone from each drop of blood he spilled, and all the others had been the spitting image of him. Perfect clones, with all his memories, his strength, his psychotic bloodlust.

Not Slo-bo, though. He'd been smaller, slower and weaker than the rest. He was still stronger than a human, but he hadn't stood a chance against the army of Lobo clones running around on Apokalyps, destroying everything they could find.

There was some sort of built-in failsafe with them, to stop the galaxy being flooded with thousands of Main Man clones. After they'd done whatever they were created to do, they always turned on each other and ended up fighting until there was only one left. Nobody was ever sure if that last one was the original Lobo or one of the clones, but Slo-bo didn't suppose it mattered.

They'd all been attacking each other and he'd hidden inside Impulse's ship because he'd known he'd be ripped to pieces in a fight against Lobo. The Young Justice team had taken him back to earth and he'd joined up with them, and everything had been fine until he'd started to go blind and realised what that meant. He'd told them he was dying and he didn't want their pity. He'd told them he was blind, and that if any of them dared to feel sorry for him he'd kill them. Cissie, the former Arrowette, had just laughed and said 'what are you going to do, trip over us?'

That had hurt, and he'd been scared. He didn't want to die. But, most of all, he didn't want to die like _that._ When Darkseid had shown up again he'd just jumped right in there, ready to go out in battle and at least not have to suffer a slow and tortured death at the hands of his defective genes. Darkseid hadn't even flinched at his attack, but he hadn't really expected to do any damage. That red beam shot out – the Omega Effect – and hit him, and he'd expected that to be the end. Everything had gone black, and he'd been thinking about what happened to clones when they died, even defective ones.

But he hadn't died. He'd woken up, sort of. Frozen in exactly the same position he'd been in when the beam hit, unable to see anything but able to hear just fine. His cells had stopped breaking down but he couldn't move, and he could hear voices wondering if that statue had been there before.

Where was he? _When_ was he? What had he been turned into? He had no idea, and he didn't even know how long ago that had been. Every day was the same wherever he was, and he was trapped, unmoving and wishing Darkseid had just killed him. How long was he going to be like this? Would he die, eventually? Or would he go on living forever? He hoped not. Ever day he heard the voices of people walking around him, but nobody ever touched him. He was sure if someone just touched him they'd know he wasn't a statue, but nobody ever did.

It seemed like years passed and still he stood there, filling up with despair and bitterness because nobody could hear him and he wanted it to end. He

wondered if the rest of Young Justice had forgotten about him yet, and knew that they must think that blast had killed him. Did they care? Had they felt anything? Had they even survived? Probably, they tended to survive whatever came at them. Well, except him, but he wasn't really one of them anyway. He wasn't even from Earth.

Technically he wasn't really from anywhere.

"You know, I really do think there's something weird about that statue." A voice said nearby, snapping Slo-bo out of his thoughts.

"I think there's something weird around here, and it _isn't_ the statue." Another voice said, and Slo-bo thought it sounded like Kon and Robin. He couldn't see them, though. Frustration boiled up inside him and he couldn't even clench his fists, so he did the only thing he could. He screamed, in his mind, as loud and as long as he could.

"LET ME **_OUT!_**"

"Did you hear something?" The first voice asked while Slo-bo willed them to come closer.

"Uh, no." The second voice said flippantly, clearly not believing anything the other said.

"I guess it must have been the wind," the first said with a sigh, and Slo-bo wanted to scream again but knew there was no point. He was going to stand there, frozen for eternity, not even knowing where he was. It hurt so much to be forgotten and ignored, to have people walk past him and have no clue that he was _alive_ in there. Then… Something brushed against his leg. The owner of the second voice had just leant on him!

"Argh!" Voice #2 exclaimed, jumping away from Slo-bo in fright. "It's warm!"

"I _told_ you there was something odd about it." The first voice said, and Slo-bo felt them touching his leg again tentatively, confirming the fact that he was indeed warm and _alive_.

"We need to find out who this guy is. Take a picture, we can look through Red Tornado's files back at the base, he might be in there." The second voice decided, and Slo-bo felt his heart pounding in his chest. Finally! Someone knew he wasn't just another statue! They might be able to help him, even if it meant destroying him – anything was better than this. He just prayed Red Tornado had left some sort of file on him so these people knew what had happened to him. They might be able to work it out for themselves from there, they _had_ to. He couldn't bear this, they couldn't leave him there forever. He was losing his mind, even the slow death he'd had to look forward to before would have been better.

XxXxX

He didn't really know what was happening, since he still couldn't see. He heard the words 'New Genesis' and felt himself being moved, but other than that everything was a mystery to him. He didn't care much, as long as things were changing. They seemed to understand that he was alive, and that was enough.

It was days – maybe even weeks – before someone finally stood before him and actually spoke _to_ him, which felt strange considering he couldn't respond in any way.

"We're sending you back, ok?" The voice, which sounded like Robin but with a metallic tint to it, told him. It turned away then, and addressed someone else. "Ok, go for it."

Back? They were going to send him back to Young Justice? They could actually do that? But even if they were going to un-freeze him first, he didn't want to go back there. Not after the way he'd left, after what Cissie had said to him. They didn't _want_ him there, and so he didn't want to be there. But clearly they didn't want him _here_, either, so where did he have to go? Nowhere.

He felt warm, as though an intense light was shining on him, and then suddenly he _hurt_. Every single nerve in his body shrieked at him and he gave a choked growl of pain, arching up from whatever he was laying on. Before it hit him that he could move again he was falling, but he still couldn't see. It was a dizzy sort of falling, and every few moments air currents seemed to push at him. Was this a slipstream? They really were sending him back, blind and useless.

The pain was wearing off to a dull ache, and after what seemed an eternity of falling through emptiness something finally seemed to be happening. He felt himself being dragged towards the left side of whatever he was falling through, and he knew he was almost at the end of the journey. Gritting his sharp teeth and snarling, he reached towards the right and clawed at anything he could. His fingers touched something that felt like a wall of electricity, sending shocks up his arms and alerting him to the fact that he'd probably just found one wall of whatever tunnel he was falling through. Narrowing his sightless, black eyes, Slo-bo drew back his fist and punched the wall as hard as he could. He felt it give and a new avenue opened up before him, a new tunnel splitting off from the main stream. That was good enough for him, and he felt it dragging him down in the opposite direction from where he was supposed to be going. Anything was better than facing the rest of Young Justice again, even if he ended up back on Apokalyps.

XxXxX

He woke up on the ground. That was the only thing he could really tell, to begin with. There was dry earth beneath him and cold, clean air around him, and he ached. Must've hit the ground hard, felt like there were a few nice, deep gashes down his leg and on one shoulder. Stung when he moved, but just being able to do that again was a blessing. He was still blind when he opened his eyes and found the familiar darkness waiting for him, and something else had changed now. That same constant, deep-down pain in his bones was back from before he'd been frozen in the statue. He was back to dying again, slow and painful.

Growling because it felt like the thing to do at the time, he sat up and stared straight forward into darkness. The land sloped slightly so he was on a hill, or a mountain judging from the chill in the air and the fresh, crisp scent of it. He could smell trees and water nearby, no fumes from cars or smoke from houses. Must be a long way from civilization, then. He didn't have his bike or Robin's to call for here, so he wondered how in Feetal's name he was supposed to find his way down to a city. And what would he do then, he wondered? He didn't even know which planet he was on.

Slo-bo wondered what the original Lobo would have done in this situation. A small smirk crossed his pale lips as he found the answer. He'd start destroying things until someone turned up, then probably threaten them until they did what he wanted. Lobo was never the type to give in to despair. He didn't generally angst over things, but that was something that set Slo-bo apart from him. When Slo-bo had first been bought back to Earth by Young Justice he'd locked himself in his room for days, hating himself for running away from the other, stronger clones. Hating himself for being afraid to die. And where had that gotten him? Perhaps it was time to try the Lobo method.

Picking himself up surprisingly steadily for someone who was completely blinded, dying and had no idea where he was, Slo-bo walked forward with his arms outstretched, fingers waiting to touch whatever he found in front of him. He didn't stumble, having grown fairly accustomed to being unable to see during his last few weeks with Young Justice. Eventually his ghostly white fingertips brushed against the bark of a tree and he stopped close to it, lips curling upward in a smirk. It was gonna feel real good to frag somethin' again, even a tree. Drawing back his first, he let out a feral growl and let loose on the pine blocking his path.

XxXxX

After the splintering explosion died down from the sixth tree he'd reduced to toothpicks, Slo-bo panted and grinned at the same time. The aching in his bones had gotten worse and he was starting to feel dizzy, but he didn't care. There was nothing like some mindless violence to clear his head, and sooner or later either someone would hear him or he'd just keel over and die. Either way was better than sitting on the ground feeling sorry for himself.

Placing his hands on the trunk of the latest tree he'd destroyed, Slo-bo vaulted gracefully over it and reached out for the next one. His fingers touched bark and he drew back his fist again to punch a hole in it, but paused and narrowed his sightless black eyes. A growl behind him, at least a few meters away, had him turning and growling himself.

"Yer frightenin' all the critters away, an' I'm gettin' mighty hungry." A deep, rumbling voice informed him. Slo-bo could tell that whoever was there had to be huge just by the voice. Strong, too. He could practically feel the power coming off the guy.

"So go get yerself a drive through." The clone growled back, sensing that this guy wasn't the type of person he should ask for help. Not that he really wanted to ask anyone for help, he was starting to enjoy just being free, destroying whatever inanimate objects happened to be in his path until his cells degraded so far that he couldn't move anymore.

"Locals don't take real kind to mutants 'round here. You ain't from 'round here though. Y' ain't a mutant, either. Y' ain't even human." The rumbling voice declared, and Slo-bo could hear the guy sniffing at the air and moving a little closer then stopping. He guessed he'd taken a seat on one of the logs now littering the ground.

Humans. So he was on Earth. Mutants, though?

"I ain't no mutant, an' I ain't from around here. What're ya gunna do 'bout it?" Slo-bo grinned, hoping suddenly that this guy wanted a fight. Going out in battle, now that'd be a better way to die. Shoulda done that in the first place.

"I get real unhappy when I ain't eaten', kid. Figure I might just take it out on yer lily-white hide." The voice held an amused edge to the growl now, and Slo-bo suddenly felt better than he had in as long as he could remember.

"Bring it on," he said, dropping to a fighting crouch like an animal.

XxXxX

"X-men, please gather in my office." The mental voice of Charles Xavier echoed simultaneously in the minds of everyone concerned. Logan, polishing the chrome on his bike, threw down the cloth he was using and wiped the grease off his hands onto his faded jeans. Heading up to Xavier's office from the garages, Wolverine ran a hand through his spiky hair and then wondered why he bothered. Wasn't going to make him look any more presentable, after all. Not that he cared much about looking pretty.

Opening the door, he stepped inside the comfortable office to find Jean, Scott, Storm, Rogue and Kurt already there. They all turned to look at him, and he sighed.

"Y' found Creed, I take it?" He guessed, judging from the looks on their faces.

"Yes, Logan. Cerebro has located Sabretooth in the mountains to the north, there appears to be another mutant with him." Xavier explained calmly. "Although, the other mutant has slightly…odd readings."

Logan cocked an eyebrow.

"Odd?" He asked, already thinking about how badly he was going to pound Sabretooth before they handed him over to S.H.I.E.L.D. and Nick Fury.

"As you know, average humans appear as white, glowing outlines within Cerebro. Mutants appear red, usually. This one, though, is grey." Xavier seemed mildly troubled by this, but Logan assumed it was because he hated not knowing things that could potentially be a danger to his students. He knew the feeling.

"Guess we'll find out all we need to know when we get there," Logan shrugged, keeping his desire to rip Sabretooth to shreds well hidden at the back of his mind. After the last few weeks he needed a little stress relief, and carving Creed into a few pieces sounded just about perfect.

"I'll ready the jet." Storm said in her calm, regal voice, heading out to take care of that. As Cyclops, Jean Grey, Rogue and Nightcrawler hurried out to change into their uniforms, Xavier stopped Wolverine.

"Be careful, Logan. This other mutant… I get the feeling they're familiar, somehow." The professor frowned.

"That ain't usually a good thing, in our case. I'll watch out for 'em." Logan promised, before heading out himself.

XxXxX

Rogue sat in the back of the jet as it headed towards Sabretooth, looking forward to the impending fight. She'd been feeling out of sorts lately, hadn't been thinking right. Ever since the trial, when they'd found out that Gambit had inadvertently led the Marauders to the Morlocks and caused their massacre. For the deaths of the Morlocks, they'd found him guilty and she'd left him in the frozen wastes of Antarctica to die. She never thought she'd be able to do something like that to the man who loved her, but it hadn't even been that hard. Remy had deserved it, it was his fault they all died. Still, somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that wasn't the way she should be thinking.

The jet approached the mountainside Xavier had indicated, and she unbuckled her seatbelt to stride up beside Jean and Scott at the front of the plane. Straight away she could see where Sabretooth must be. Trees were lying torn from the ground and snapped like twigs around a makeshift clearing, where the huge figure of Victor Creed was just visible from the air. Someone else was down there too, much smaller and a stark black and white against the ground. She couldn't see well enough yet, and Logan was next to her growling something about landing the jet on top of Sabretooth. It was strange to have Wolverine standing next to her for once – he'd been avoiding her as much as possible since he returned to the mansion a few weeks ago and found out Remy had been left in the Antarctic. She'd heard he was even planning to head out there and search for him, if only to give him a proper burial. As though he deserved it after what he'd done.

Dragging her mind back to the present, Rogue realised they'd landed already and everyone was rushing out of the jet to where Logan was already throwing himself at the other feral. She followed, eager for a fight, and saw Sabretooth turn away from a smaller figure in time to be slammed back by Wolverine leaping at him. The two of them crashed through a pile of uprooted trees with a shared roar, and Rogue joined the other X-men taking up positions to join the fight when the two of them emerged from the close-quarters battle of teeth and claws they were currently engaged in. Jean had hurried over to the other mutant Sabretooth had been with, and Rogue glanced at it while she waited for the fight to come her way. She could end the battle any time she felt like with a simple touch, this was mostly for Logan to take out some stress anyway.

The kid – since he was only eighteen at the most – was out cold. She had to wonder why Sabretooth had only knocked him out and not killed him. He had pure white skin and black markings around his closed eyes, matching his black nails, spiky black hair and biker-looking clothes. He was small and slim, but from the destruction around the place he'd obviously been able to hold his own against Sabretooth, at least for a while. He didn't look like much of a threat to her, though.

Sabretooth came crashing back her way a moment later, Logan in hot pursuit. Storm was pushing the huge, blonde feral back with a fierce gust of wind, and Cyclops was hitting him full in the chest with his optic lasers. It was slowing him down, but not much. Nightcrawler teleported in and swept his legs out from under him, quickly porting away again before Sabretooth could fall on him. With surprising agility for his frame, Creed caught himself and flipped back up in time to dodge a swipe of Wolverine's lethal claws. They tore through his shoulder instead of his chest, and he roared in fury, about to pounce at the smaller feral.

Taking off her gloves, Rogue flew forward and caught Sabretooth by surprise as he advanced on the snarling Wolverine. She pressed the bare skin of her palm to his shoulder where his coat and shirt had been torn by Logan's claws, and felt his power draining into her. It was exhilarating to feel another person's life being sucked into her, and she almost didn't want to let go. The others were watching her now that Creed had howled in pain and fallen to the floor, though. She let him go and stood up, pushing down the feeling of Sabretooth's animal emotions leeching into her. She wanted to kill him now that he was laid out cold in front of her. She stepped back though, blaming it on having touched the feral. It was his emotions that made her want to kill, not her own.

"Good job, Rogue." Scott was saying, and she just shrugged and slipped her gloves back on.

"Any time, shugah." She said, lifting the much larger form of Sabretooth and easily dragging him into the cage that waited for him in the back of the jet. The others followed, Logan taking his time because he could still feel the animal inside him wishing Rogue hadn't stepped in and ended the fight so soon. He'd needed it. The others were inspecting the new mutant, who Scott was carrying into the jet as well. Finally Logan seemed to shake himself out of it and strode in last. Only when the exit ramp had locked in place did he glance over at the unconscious teenager in the chair behind him, his eyes widening in shock.

"Oh, hell no!" He growled savagely, recognising the scent and sight of the new arrival instantly.

TBC

To clear a couple of things up that some might not know: Lobo and Wolverine have fought before. Wolvie won, due to popular demand.

Gambit was left in Antarctica because he led the bad guys to a group of mutants living in underground tunnels, called the Morlocks. The bad guys killed the Morlocks, and Gambit claimed he didn't know they were going to. For the full story, check Wikipedia.

This is more leaning towards the X-men comics, rather than the movies, although I'm going by what Sabretooth looks like in X-men Evolution because short hair really doesn't suit him.

This is a change from what I usually write. O.o There's a lot of different characters with accents in this one, too. Sorry for any inconsistencies on that note, they're pretty hard to write. Anyway, anything that seems unclear will probably be cleared up over the next few chapters.

Next time: Mistaken identities, and someone Wolvie missed returns to the mansion.


	2. Chapter 2

Notes: So many accents! Argh.

The Bud – Yeah, now that you mention it, the lyrics to "One" do seem to fit. Then again, writing this thing I have "The Small Hours" and "Astronomy" on repeat. At 6am. That can't be healthy. O.o

Warnings: Slash! Yay! Also, Crossover, and writing under the influence of too much Metallica at stupid o' clock in the morning.

**No Leaf Clover – Part 2**

The Xavier Institute for gifted youngsters looked the same as it always had. For all that happened there, it always seemed to give out an air of peaceful comfort to anyone who approached it, and that was certainly something Remy LeBeau was glad of after the last few weeks.

He'd found his way back from the cold, icy bleakness of Antarctica alone – not without a little help from his charm power when it came to hitching rides – and now that he was finally back home he wasn't even sure he should be there. They clearly didn't want him if they'd had no problem with leaving him to die in that frozen wasteland, but where else did he have to go? Nowhere. The ice of the Antarctic wasn't nearly as cold as the gaping hole in his heart now that he knew for certain exactly how much he meant to these people, just beyond the gates in front of him. Nothing at all. Rogue, the woman he thought he'd loved, had just left him there to die. The worst thing was, he knew he deserved it. Believing the Marauders were after the Morlocks to _recruit_ them… he couldn't believe how naïve he'd been. It was like they all said, it was _his_ fault they'd been slaughtered like animals and he knew he had to bear what he'd done. Whatever punishment his fellow X-men took it upon themselves to hand to him, he was determined to take it no matter what it did to him.

After all, he _deserved _it. These were good people, and if they believed he deserved it then it had to be true.

Drawing as much courage as he'd been left with, Remy dragged his exhausted body the last few yards of his long, long journey towards the only home he had.

XxXxX

"Come in, Gambit." The voice called before he could even raise a hand to knock on the door. That was a blessing, since he was so weary that even such a small action would have drained a good portion of what little strength he had left in him. He opened the door and slipped inside, standing before the desk and looking silently across at the professor. Waiting, to see if he was welcome here, if he should turn around and leave right now.

"It's good to see you alive and well, Remy." Charles Xavier smiled warmly, and Remy felt such a rush of relief he could have collapsed right there. His empathy rarely picked anything up from Xavier, the same way most telepaths couldn't get past his own mental walls. He could tell from the professor's eyes that his welcome was sincere, though.

"Don' t'ink everyone else gon' feel de same way, mon ami." The Cajun thief murmured tiredly, raising a hand to run through his unruly hair in an effort to keep it out of his crimson on black eyes. That and to keep himself awake.

"I think you'll be surprised, Gambit. I'm told Logan was planning to head out to Antarctica as soon as he could find someone to fill in his position to look for you. Ororo, Kurt and many of the others have been very worried about you." The telepath claimed, tactfully not mentioning Rogue. Remy seemed momentarily surprised that anyone would have taken his side, but it quickly vanished when he realised the professor was probably just trying to make him feel better about the fact that the only friends he had had left him to die. Swaying slightly on his feet, he gave a weary but nevertheless charming smile.

"Dey gon' be surprised to see Remy alive, non? You tell dem yet?" Remy asked, although he hardly expected them all to rush in and greet him. Xavier shook his head, smiling a little.

"Not yet, they're out bringing back Creed. He was located earlier today. I'm sure you could use a little rest before seeing them anyway, you look exhausted." The professor said kindly, easily noticing the fact that Remy was barely staying on his feet. The Cajun looked relieved at his words and gave a slightly more genuine smile this time.

"Oui, Remy don' t'ink he up to no reunion right now. Maybe get him some sleep first." The thief said, suppressing a yawn even as he spoke.

"Alright, you go and rest, I'll inform the others later." Xavier smiled, shooing Remy out of his office with a gesture. The thief nodded and gladly obeyed, dragging himself up to his old room like a walking corpse. He'd never been so drained – physically and emotionally – in his entire life, and that was saying something. Barely managing to kick his boots off and close the door behind him, he collapsed onto his bed and passed out within moments of feeling the soft mattress beneath his aching limbs.

XxXxX

The Earth. Floating out there in the darkness, like a glowing blue pearl in a glittering black ocean. Frag, he hated that place. There were very few planets he hadn't been to, and Earth was definitely the worst of the ones he had. Still, that was where his tracking sense told him the last clone was, so that was where he was heading.

Couldn't leave any loose ends, after all. There was only _one_ Main Man.

XxXxX

"_Hell_ no." Logan snarled, grabbing the semi-conscious, much smaller figure by the front of his grey shirt and yanking him up, right out of his seat.

"Logan? Vas ist wrong, mein freund?" Kurt asked, perched on his own chair with his tail twitching anxiously behind him. Rogue, Storm and Jean had gathered around to see what was going on, leaving Scott to fly the jet.

"This ain't no mutant." Logan growled savagely, glaring down at the young figure as it gave a low groan and opened pure, inky black eyes. "What're _you_ doin' on Earth?" He demanded, shaking the boy.

"Logan! He's just a child-!" Storm chastised, but Logan cut her off with another growl.

"This ain't no child." He claimed. "I don't care what he looks like, I know that scent. He's a bounty hunter, named Lobo. Makes Creed there look warm an' fuzzy. Killed his whole planet for kicks. What're you doin' here!?" Logan snarled again, shaking the dazed creature in his grip a little harder.

Slo-bo vaguely recognised the voice from Lobo's memories, but he wasn't a perfect clone and they weren't complete. He knew it was someone Lobo had fought before, though. The shaking made it hard to think, and he tasted coppery blood in his mouth. Fighting down the urge to cough up more of the stuff, he glared and tried not to give away the fact that he couldn't see.

"I ain't doin' nothin', get offa me!" He struggled a little, wincing as pain shot down his leg. He'd cut it open pretty badly, he knew. It made him wish he could heal as fast as the real Lobo.

"Why're you on Earth, bub?" The voice of the man holding him up rumbled, and Slo-bo bared his sharp teeth in his own growl.

"None a' yer business!" Slo-bo spat, wondering why the last guy he'd fought hadn't killed him. Still, this guy seemed just as savage, maybe it was second time lucky. Kicking out a leg, Slo-bo felt it connect with the man's shin, followed by a string of hissed curses. He was roughly thrown against the wall of whatever vehicle they were in, biting off a yelp as he landed on his bad leg. Before he could pull himself up, Logan was on him, lifting him up again. There was the noise of a hatch opening and suddenly he was being held against rushing wind. He could tell they were in a plane, and he took a quick moment to wonder if a fall from that height would really kill him. He was pretty sure it would, so he stilled and waited to see what the man would do next.

"Fer the last time, I wanna know what the hell yer doin' on Earth, Lobo!" Wolverine roared angrily. Slo-bo narrowed his damaged, black eyes and bared his fangs again like an animal.

"Came t' frag the place, never did like it." He lied, preparing himself for the end of what had been a very short and not particularly happy life.

"I say we throw him out right here!" Logan declared, but paused when Slo-bo let go of the sides of the hatch, not even trying to stop himself from being pushed out. The only thing holding him in the jet was Logan's hand in the front of his jacket.

"Get on with it, Clyde. Ain't got all day." Slo-bo smirked when he felt Logan hesitate.

"No, Logan, don't!" A woman's voice interrupted them, and Slo-bo felt another presence next to him, pulling on Logan's arm and drawing him back into the plane. He was dumped unceremoniously on the floor and he heard the hatch being closed, dragging a hand down his face in annoyance. Who'd have thought a quick death would be so hard to find? Knowing they were probably all watching him, he scooted back into a corner, against the bars of something that felt like a cage. His muted version of Lobo's tracking sense told him the first mutant he'd fought with was inside the cage, breathing slow and steady in sleep. He wondered briefly what they were going to do with the two of them, before one of the women (judging by the perfume) was standing over him. He shrank back a little, growling defensively.

Jean Grey waved a hand in front of the pure black eyes of the growling little Czarnian holed up before her, in the gap between the wall and the side of Sabretooth's cage. The pupil-less, dark eyes of the creature didn't even flicker, and she straightened up as her suspicions were confirmed.

"He's blind." She said, turning back to the fuming Logan. That revelation knocked the wind out of his sails somewhat, and he relaxed a little, frowning.

"The hell?" Logan wondered out loud, puzzled. "Lobo has a healin' factor even better'n mine. He shouldn't be able to go blind." The feral informed them, privately thinking that the only way Lobo was likely to go blind was if he drank himself that way, and there wasn't enough alcohol in the galaxy for that.

"That's because this isn't Lobo." Jean said quietly, crouching down beside the small figure, who looked up in the direction her voice came from.

"He looks different – younger an' smaller – but he has the same scent. Who is he?" Logan demanded, standing back with the bemused Storm and Nightcrawler as Jean attempted to find out.

"What's your name?" She asked gently, noticing that he seemed a little more docile now that he realised they weren't going to kill him. It was as though he'd given up, in a way.

"Slo-bo." He said, in his growly little voice. Trying to be as non-threatening as possible, Jean reached out and splayed her fingertips against the side of his white face, watching him draw in a startled breath because he couldn't see these things coming.

"What're you doin' t' me?" He demanded, frowning and then going rigid as he felt her presence in his mind.

"Finding out who you are. Don't be afraid." She soothed. Feeling him about to push her away and panic, she exerted a little mental pressure and his arms dropped limply to his sides, blank eyes wide open.

Not even Logan noticed the golden, feline eyes slide open a little, watching the scene from the cage next to which it took place. As soon as Jean let go, the yellow eyes slid closed again and nobody was the wiser.

Jean stood up, a frown on her delicate features as she turned back to the others. Behind her, Slo-bo shook himself out of whatever Jean had done, curling onto his side and coughing violently. There was a _BAMF_ noise nearby and the smell of brimstone, and then someone was next to him, talking soothingly to him with a strange accent. He wanted to brush their warm, furred hand from his shoulder and tell them to go away, but for the moment he couldn't move for more than breathless, pained coughing.

"He's a clone." Jean told the others in a low voice, her eyes dark. "One of Lobo's clones, but he didn't come out like the rest. He's not… I mean, he isn't evil. He has a few of Lobo's memories, but for the most part he's just a kid. He worked with the kids from the Justice League for a while. He's not perfect, but he's not one of the bad guys. His cells are degrading, though. I think he's dying." She finished softly. Logan stared over at where Nightcrawler was next to the kid, who was coughing painfully, his back against Creed's cage. Sighing, Logan shook his head and sat down in his seat again, not entirely convinced but trusting Jean enough to let it go for now.

"Best take him to the professor, then." Wolverine decided, opting to ignore the proud smile Jean sent his way before she headed off to the cockpit to tell Scott what was going on. Storm and Nightcrawler tended to the boy, who had blood trickling down his chin now and was breathing heavily, on the verge of passing out and trying to get them all to leave him alone.

As the weather witch and the demon acquiesced to the clone's wishes and left him alone, casting worried glances back his way every now and then, Creed opened his eyes again and watched the boy. His back was resting against the bars of the cage, and Creed knew he could easily grab him, buy his way out with a hostage. He didn't, though. He played dead and just watched the pretty little thing, his amber eyes glittering slits.

Unaware that he was being watched so closely, Slo-bo raised a weary hand to wipe the blood from his pale lips. They all knew his story now, and that just made it worse. He didn't want pity, he wanted that guy to finish him off quickly, so he didn't have to feel the burning ache inside his bones anymore. Giving a painful shudder, Slo-bo relaxed against the cold iron bars at his back, letting his sightless black eyes slide closed. Perhaps he could talk the guy into it later. For now, he was too exhausted to care. He just wanted to sleep, and hope that he didn't wake up.

XxXxX

The jet landed smoothly, and Logan looked to the back to find the kid passed out against Creed's cage. Leaving the others to deal with the apparently still sleeping Sabretooth, Logan scooped the small, skinny little figure up in his arms and opted to take him down to see Hank. He wanted to know for sure that what Jean had told them was what was really going on – that this really was a clone and not the real deal.

XxXxX

"Hey, Hank. Present for ya." Logan said in greeting, letting himself into the sterile lab and ignoring the way hospital environments always put his nerves on edge.

"Oh? And what have we here?" Henry McCoy asked, moving over to the side of the bed, where Logan laid the small, unconscious figure of Slo-bo down.

"His name's Slo-bo. He's a clone of Lobo, a psycho alien bounty hunter I've had a few run-ins with. Jeanie says he's dying, can you take a look? I wanna be sure it's not a trick; any clone of Lobo should have a healin' factor just as good as mine." Wolverine explained, watching Hank's huge, blue-furred form head over to where his equipment lay, fetching a syringe for a blood sample. Not particularly liking needles, Logan opted to leave Slo-bo in the large, capable hands of their resident doctor and head off to see the Professor. Hank watched him mutter a quick goodbye and rush out, smiling slightly at big, bad Wolverine's fear of hospitals. Not that it wasn't without reason, of course.

XxXxX

"Come in, Logan." Professor Xavier said, before Wolverine could knock. He did that to everyone.

The feral opened the door and strode in, letting it fall closed behind him, and took a seat on one of the leather chairs. A familiar scent clung to the place and Logan tried to pinpoint it for a moment, but gave up when the professor began to speak.

"How did things go?" Xavier asked, noticing the troubled and irritated look Logan was giving the desk.

"We got Creed. Also bought back a kid, one of Lobo's clones. Jeanie says his cells are degenerating – he's already blind - I dropped him off with Hank before I came up here. What are we supposed to do with 'em?" Logan asked, not linking having anything to do with Lobo anywhere near the mansion.

"Well, Creed is easy enough to deal with. I'll call Nick Fury and have S.H.I.E.L.D. come and collect him. As for our other guest..." Xavier paused, then wheeled himself out from behind his desk. "I think I should take a look at him. Would you care to join me, since you're our resident expert on Lobo?"

"Yeah, sure." Logan muttered, not relishing the thought of visiting the labs twice in one day but going along anyway, because it wasn't really an invitation.

Following Xavier to the elevator and down to the lab again, Logan stood back while the professor spoke briefly with Hank and then went over to the boy's bedside and touched his pale forehead lightly, no doubt trying to see what he could pick up about the clone telepathically. After a few minutes Xavier wheeled himself back over to Logan and looked vaguely troubled, although for different reasons than Logan had.

"What's the verdict?" The Canadian asked, wanting to get out of there and knowing Xavier could tell.

"He isn't an enemy, and yes, he is dying. It seems he's a clone that just...came out wrong, I suppose. He's well aware of what's going to happen to him; that's why he took it upon himself to start a fight with Victor Creed. He's afraid of dying from the degradation of his cells, it seems he would much rather go out fighting – I'm sure you can relate." Xavier explained. Logan took this all in, glancing over at the small figure laid out on the bed.

"Yeah..." Wolverine said slowly. "I guess I was a little hard on him, thought he was really Lobo. It's confusin', he has the same scent." Logan explained, deciding to go a little easier on the clone, who appeared to be waking up.

"Where th' frag...?" Slo-bo groaned, sitting bolt upright and then choking back a growl of pain because he hadn't realised it was going to hurt that much. Hank, Xavier and Logan approached the bed, watching him reach over and try to yank the drip out of his ghostly white arm. A large, blue furred hand rested over the top of the clone's smaller one, stopping him gently.

"Allow me," Hank said simply, removing the drip himself because he could tell that Slo-bo was going to be as difficult a patient as any of the X-men. The needle came out easily - with Logan looking away discreetly for a moment until it was out of sight - and the little clone growled, pressing himself against the end of the bed, as far from his visitors as he could get.

"Welcome to the Xavier Mansion, I am professor Charles Xavier." Professor X said kindly.

"What's an Xavier Mansion?" Slo-bo demanded.

"You're at a school for mutants, kid. The big guy who's looking after you is Hank, our doctor. I'm Logan, we met on the plane." Wolverine said, trying not to sound too harsh. Slo-bo turned towards his voice and growled again, something he seemed to do often.

"Yeah, I remember. Whaddaya want with me?" He asked, directing his question at Xavier.

"Well, I'm hoping doctor McCoy might be able to find a way to cure you." Xavier explained, while Hank put a quite unnecessary plaster over the tiny spot of blood on Slo-bo's arm where the drip had been taken out.

"Ya can't cure me, I'm dyin' and that's it." Slo-bo snorted. "Why the frag're you tryin'a help me anyway?"

Xavier began to answer, but Logan cut him off with a growl of his own.

"Listen kid, these're good people. That's why they're tryin' to cure you, least you could do is let 'em try."

Slo-bo narrowed his obsidian eyes at the direction Logan's voice had been coming from, not liking being some charity case for a bunch of do-gooders. He wondered what they'd done with the first guy he'd fought – were they treating him like this too?

"Fine," Slo-bo finally decided, an idea occurring to him. "You people can poke an' prod at me all ya want, but ya gotta promise me somethin'."

Logan didn't like the sound of it, but Xavier could feel the strength of the boy's determination, already knowing what he was going to say. He hated to agree to it, but felt sure they could find a way to cure Slo-bo before it mattered.

"If ya can't cure me in a week, I wanna fight that guy." Slo-bo pointed in Logan's general direction. "T' the death."

Straight away, Logan refused. He wasn't going to kill a kid, no matter how much that kid happened to piss him off.

"I ain't killin' ya." Logan said firmly.

"Logan, I'm sure we can find a cure before it becomes necessary to fight, please..." Xavier prompted. For a moment Logan couldn't believe Xavier was actually asking him to agree to something like that. Still, he'd rather break his word than kill a kid, and even if they couldn't find a cure he had no intention of killing the boy. Having a week was better than having him walk out and go get himself run over or something right now, though.

"Fine, but you had better be able to cure him." Logan agreed reluctantly, his anger clear in his voice as he glared at both Hank and Xavier.

"See ya in a week." Slo-bo said to Logan, as the feral turned and stomped out.

_Logan, please wait outside for me, I need to speak with you further._ Xavier's mental voice reached him and Logan muttered a curse, leaving the lab and considering just going back up to take his bike out for a ride, calm himself down a bit. Running an annoyed hand down his face in frustration, Logan took a seat in the waiting room instead, hating having to do the responsible thing when he could be storming off.

Back inside the lab, Hank and Xavier were having a mental conversation while the doctor checked Slo-bo's blood pressure and various other things, including examining his pure black eyes.

_I have my doubts as to whether this is feasible, Charles. _Hank thought, knowing the professor would pick up on it.

_I have faith in you, my friend. Please, keep me informed of all developments and I'll see if there's anything I can do to help." _Xavier said, wheeling himself towards the exit. Hank wasn't sure he understood what Xavier was planning to do, but any help was going to be warmly welcomed. Complete genetic breakdown wasn't something one just cured with medicine, after all.

"Wait." Slo-bo called out, stopping Xavier at the door.

"Yes, my child?" The professor asked, noting that Slo-bo greatly disliked being called that.

"What'd ya do with that other guy? The one I was fightin' before?" The clone asked, trying not to sound like he cared too much. He wasn't even sure why it mattered anyway.

"His name is Sabretooth – Victor Creed. He's being held in a cell, an organisation that deals with criminals like him will be collecting him soon." Xavier explained, "You're a very lucky young man to have encountered him and lived." The professor said, wheeling out of the labs to where Logan would be waiting for him.

Laying back down, Slo-bo listened to Hank pottering about on the other side of the lab, thinking about Sabretooth and just why the guy _hadn't_ killed him. Logan hadn't done it because he was one of these do-gooders, but from what that professor had said, Creed wasn't. Well, at least it was something to think about for the next week while he let them try to fix him.

XxXxX

"I have some news, I thought you should be the first to know considering what some of the others' reactions might be." Xavier said, stopping his chair next to where Logan sat. He'd heard of Logan's plans to find a replacement for a while and head out into the freezing wastes of Antarctica to bring back Gambit's body, Warren's muttered remarks about whether they should allow Remy to be buried at the X-mansion with _heroes_ only making Logan more determined that the Cajun have a place there. The anger he'd felt from Logan when he'd found out that Remy had been left behind had been some of the most intense he'd ever read from anyone. It was a wonder Logan had avoided killing anyone, although that could probably be attributed to the fact that he now kept well away from Rogue whenever possible. The feral hadn't liked her much to begin with, but now he downright hated her. Still, the news that Remy was alive and at the mansion would undoubtedly make up for being dragged down to the labs twice.

"What's goin' on, Chuck?" Logan asked, his annoyance at the day as a whole fading at this strange new turn of events.

"Gambit." Xavier said simply.

"What? If it's about goin' to find him, I ain't backin' down on this one. Get Wings to cover for me, ain't like he ever does anything but sit around an' bitch anyway. I don't care what they say about buryin' him on the grounds, I ain't hearin' a word against it. I mean it Chuck, he deserved better'n what he got." Logan said firmly. It always made him sick that Remy had only been twenty-two. He'd been through so much crap and he was just a kid when he died. Even after he was dead they wouldn't lay off.

"I agree with you, my friend. Although, I don't think you're going to have to worry about burying him. He's upstairs." The professor said with a smile, enjoying the shock that provoked in the usually gruff Wolverine.

"What?! How the-? He's alive? He's ok?" Logan spluttered, almost knocking his chair over as he leapt up.

"Exhausted and weak, but other than that he seemed physically uninjured. He arrived this morning, I sent him to get some rest in his old room. I think it's about time someone other than me greeted him, he seemed to think he wasn't welcome here." Xavier said, knowing full well that Remy was going to have to deal with a lot over the next few days as the other X-men were informed of his survival and return. Logan, Xavier decided, was the best person one could ever hope to have on their side at such a difficult time.

"I'm goin' up there." Logan decided, not wanting Remy to wake up and wander down only to run into Rogue, Warren or any of the others who disliked him so intensely without the Wolverine right by his side. He hadn't been there for Remy in Antarctica, but there was no way he was letting the Cajun face this trial alone.

"All right, I have a call to make to Mr Fury anyway, perhaps I'll see the both of you at dinner." Xavier smiled, watching Logan practically run off towards the elevators, his thoughts radiating concern and relief that Remy was back and safe. It was good to see someone so eager to treat the thief right for once.

XxXxX

The comet – or what looked like a comet to the naked eye – roared through the atmosphere in a ball of white-hot flame and seemed to veer about on its path drunkenly, which was actually quite correct. Eventually it slammed into a mountainside and turned it into a small, deep crater from which smoke rose steadily, accompanied by the sound of molten rock cooling. After about an hour, as the fires died out and the pieces of metal that had once been a bike lost their red-hot glow, a deep, growling voice echoed out from the bottom of the crater.

"Frag." It said, although it was still too drunk to really care that it was stranded on Earth yet.

A white hand gripped the side of the crater and the creature pulled himself out of the hole, standing and taking in the slightly damaged countryside with a drunken glare.

"Dirtball." He muttered, turning back to look at the damage he'd done to his bike.

A few utterly obscene curses later and all the pieces of the bike had been collected – or as many as the bounty hunter could find in his inebriated state. Deciding that he needed to be _more_ drunk before he started his mission, he turned instinctively towards the nearest bar and headed that way, carrying what was left of his bike under one arm.

XxXxX

TBC


End file.
